Bound to Crimson Wings
by Hysterical Clerical Hijinks
Summary: On the world of Remnant, Bonded are Hunters soulbound to creatures of legend. Weiss Schnee has searched her entire lonely life for her heart-sister in Ruby Rose, a black dragon. Blake Belladonna, her enigmatic teammate, is partner to Yang Xiao Long, a golden dragon and Ruby's own sister. Together by flame, bullet, and blade they will turn the tide against the growing Grimm threat.


_Disclaimer: Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth own RWBY._

* * *

**Bound to Crimson Wings**

Chapter 1: Of Dragons and puppies.

* * *

Weiss Schnee was feverish with excitement. It was early morning the day of her Beacon initiation, and her first day on her journey as a true Huntress. She could feel it thrumming headily in her blood, a call to prove herself as _more_ than just a Schnee. She would prove herself apart from the dark legacy of her family name, and the onus of being the heir of most hated (and successful) company in the world.

And it would all start here, at Beacon. She could almost _taste_ the magic in the air, the arcane energies dancing across her skin like an ethereal wind. This was single largest collection of magic wielders on Remnant, apart from the Magehold in Mystral. But it wasn't like that collection of stuffy, self-important scholars; this was where the greatest warriors in the _world_ were trained.

What set it apart from thousands of combat schools and military colleges, or even the various armed forces themselves was a simple, but essential requirement.

Magic.

Great warriors without magic existed, of course, as even the superhuman abilities granted to those trained to utilise such mystical energies could be outdone through sheer skill, or intelligence, or any number of factors really. But it was irrefutable that those without the ability to use magic could not reach the same heights of speed, strength, or endurance. Without magic, one could simply not reach the same heights of power; it was the way of the world.

And that is not to speak of the actual _use_ of magic; the oft-fabled ability to weave spells, to reach into the realm of the impossible, to grasp and alter the very nature of the world around you. The schools of magic were many, with more being discovered every day, just as it was with its counterpart in Science. Beacon was one of the pre-eminent schools of magic in the world, going hand in hand with their training as warriors. This academy produced the most exceptional men and women on Remnant, the pinnacle of the human and faunus races, the Hunters.

But again, this is not what truly set Beacon apart. Dual combat and magic schools existed elsewhere in the world, of course. Hunters were needed all over the world. It would be silly to entrust _one_ school with such a massive overlap in applicants, magic wasn't so rare that all those who wielded it whom also wished to be warriors could fit into one school, after all.

No, what set Beacon apart were the familiars.

This is what Weiss was truly excited for. Long ago, during the last Great War with the Grimm, the various intelligent magical races came together to form a pact in order to protect the world. They vowed they would all periodically send some of the best and brightest of their races to the greatest mage-warrior academy in the world, Beacon. It was hoped that these chosen could then find a suitable partner, human or faunus (and not another 'primal' race, as the human and faunus vastly outnumber the other magical species) and become Bonded.

Not all Hunters were Bonded, but all Bonded were Hunters. To be chosen as Bonded, to be partnered with a magical being, was the utmost honour and an immense responsibility. Few were considered, and even fewer actually selected. To become Bonded was to gain a life-long partner, your closest ally, often described as the other half of your very own soul.

Weiss would be lying if she said she did _yearn_ to be chosen. Not for the power, or the prestige. She had magical and physical ability in spades, she could be just as powerful as any Bonded even if she did not have her own partner. She did not need the prestige, she was already part of the upper-class, rich beyond measure and far more famous than she cared to be.

No, Weiss wanted to Bond because she was lonely, and to have a friend that she could share her heart with unreservedly would be the single most wonderful gift she could ever ask for. To shatter the bonds of isolation that had been chained to her for her entire life, to finally cast them aside would be…

Well, it would suffice to say that nearly the entire reason Weiss wished to be a Hunter was so that could have the opportunity to become Bonded. She could not wait. And luckily, no more did she have to.

The consideration ceremony had begun.

* * *

Blake Belladonna watched the various Hunter prospectives file into the chamber for the consideration ceremony. The chamber was a large, empty, windowless room built of heavy stone. It was all illuminated by the brackets of torches on the walls, providing light but doing little to dispel the oddly weighty darkness of the chamber. The flickering lights of the fire caused the shadows in the room to dance, deepening and growing lighter randomly. The air was musky, a mix of dust and lingering scents of incense; and when she really focused, she even caught the subtle and ominous scent of blood.

It was quite melodramatic, all medieval in a cultish sort of way in Blake's opinion. There was ostentatiously nothing special about the room, aside from the size, so she didn't really understand the _need_ for the rather intensely mysterious atmosphere.

But it did make for quite the scene, at least. What with such a large row - at least forty odd people - of initiates armed to the teeth, and nervous as all hell. It seemed the oddly oppressive feeling in the room provided by the unyielding stone strange shadows was getting to some of them.

Blake had a sneaking suspicion that whomever chose this setup did so in part because it was amusing to watch. She certainly found it so. Then again, as a faunus, Blake had never held any sort of fear for the darkness. The world yielded its secrets to her at night just as easily as it did for a human during the day.

Her eyes widened in surprise when an orange haired girl walked in. She was was wearing functional battle clothes in eye-watering shade of pink, and carried a hammer so incredibly large that Blake had no doubt it weighed more than she did. The girl didn't even seem slightly bothered by her huge weapon, and Blake resolved then and there to never challenge the girl's monstrous strength, readily apparent in her nonchalant handling of gigantic mass of deadly metal. But that wasn't what caught her eye, no, it was the creature that walked beside the girl.

_'Wisdom Shadow', 'Night Watcher', _or more commonly known as one of the Yinzihui.

On all fours, it stood at shoulder height to the girl, and was easily at least twelve feet long. It's sleek fur was black as night, a common feature of its race. It's long, feline body rippled visibly as it walked, a testament to the deadly array of powerful muscles packed beneath it's skin. For all intents and purposes it looked like an exceptionally large - most assuredly beautiful - panther. The gleam of startling intelligence in it's magenta eyes told a different story, however.

The Yinzihui were a race of magical beings that drew their power from the night, flourishing under the watchful eye of the shattered moon. Most Yinzihui took the form of big cats with almost uniform black coloration, though some might choose other forms, with avian counterparts being the second most popular choice. They were - as were all joined under the Beacon pact - intensely magical beings, with an array of possible abilities outnumbered by only humans and faunus. It was safe to assume that a Yinzihui's powers would be inclined toward the shadows in one form or another, but not always true. They were the only 'primal' race capable of wielding any type of magic, the same as the faunus and humans. It wasn't unheard of for a Yinzihui to take up different magic, such as elementalism or transmutative magics, there have even been recorded cases of Yinzihui specialising in light magic, which was a close to the antithesis to their race as one could get.

The reason Blake was able to positively identify it as a Yinzihui, apart from the fact that a regular panther could never possibly grow to such a size, was due to how every single shadow in the room seemed to shudder and _stretch - _even if only slightly - toward it.

It was extremely unusual to see a Bonded prospective, as the duo must have become partners even before the Beacon consideration ceremony. The only way for this to have occurred was for the two to have met beforehand, in the outside world, in whatever lives they had lived before attending Beacon. Unusual to be sure, but also impressive. Blake would bet they would do extremely well during initiation. She was about to resume looking over the initiates when a man with grey hair in a green suit walked toward the group holding a small engraved fallwood and bronze box.

Ozpin, the Arch-Mage and Headmaster of Beacon.

"Greetings, initiates." He greeted politely, coming to a stop about five metres away from the centre of the group. "You are here to undergo the consideration ceremony. This ceremony dates back to the first days of the pact, and has been used for centuries. It has served us well for an untold number of years, and not once have we ever found fault in it." He informed the completely silent group, every member of the Headmaster's audience paying rapt attention. "Why do I tell you this now? Because _you_ are about to undertake it. If you are not chosen, it is by no means the fault of the ceremonial test. You must accept that you will not find a Bonded here at Beacon." Ozpin said gravely, scanning his eyes down the crowd. "We do not have time to play games, if you are not of the considered, you will move onto standard initiation to be partnered with a non-primal. You may find yourselves on a team with a Bonded pair, and if you do remember that jealousy and discrimination will _not _be tolerated. The primal magical races are human and faunus' most trusted allies, and you _will_ show them the respect they deserve. They are all intelligent, sentient beings - in fact, I dare say you will find them perfectly capable of being your intellectual superior... if perhaps a bit different. You would do well to remember this." Ozpin completed strictly, scowling lightly to emphasise the seriousness of his words. Not that Blake was going to argue with him, it was common knowledge that looking down on the primal races did not end well.

Intelligent beings often developed pride, after all. And hurting the pride of, for example, the twelve foot magical panther with razor sharp claws that were probably longer than her fingers _could_ end badly.

"The ceremony is simple," Ozpin began, hefting his box and getting Blake's wavering attention back. "you must simply channel magic into one of these." Ozpin said, flipping open the lid of the box, reaching inside, and pulling out an egg sized black stone. "You will begin channeling magic as soon as you have selected a stone, and you will return it as soon as I ask for it. Failure to comply will result in the immediate cessation of your consideration. Understood?" He asked, getting a great many nods, and some few audible affirmatives. "Good, let us begin." He said.

Blake soon realised she would be one of the last to receive a stone, as she was standing near the opposite end of where Ozpin began as he moved down the line. The second thing she noticed, after the third initiate had received his stone, was that the stones were not uniform in colour, the previous having been an intense orange. Her musings stopped as she watched Ozpin reach the orange haired girl with the laughing eyes and her Yinzihui partner, and was slightly surprised to note he gave them both a small smile and a simple 'Congratulations'. He'd gotten a snappy salute from the boisterous ginger, and a disturbingly human-like affirmative hum from the Yinzihui.

The third thing Blake realised - and by far the oddest - was that the box was bigger on the inside, as a rather tall wolf faunus had his hand up to his shoulder in a container the size of a shoe box. Which made sense considering the large number of stones it had to hold. It was extremely impressive magic, as any manipulation of space or time was not to be taken lightly.

Eventually Ozpin reached Blake, and she stepped forward to grab a stone from the box. Dipping her hand in, her fingers trailed lightly over what felt like a river of pebbles, smooth and cool to the touch. She reached to grab one an- _no_... that wasn't right. She frowned when she dropped the stone that had felt entirely wrong. Narrowing her eyes Blake channeled some raw magical energy into her hand, undiluted and unaltered, pure mana. With a large slap she felt a stone collide with the palm of her hand, seemingly summoned from within. This time the stone felt completely fine, in fact it seemed perfect for reasons that Blake couldn't quite put into words.

With a bemused expression she stepped back, staring slightly at the stone. Ozpin had a knowing look in his eyes, giving Blake the slightest of grins, before he moved downward again. She immediately dismissed the strange Headmaster, and set to her task. She summoned her magic in its base form, pure energy coloured a purple so deep it was almost black and allowed it to flow into the stone. The stone itself was a bright yellow in colour, flecked through with mote of red, and it seemed to glow when she poured her magic into it, accepting the outflow easily.

She was lucky she'd worked so hard to bring her initial atrociously small magical reserves to such a decent level. She wasn't a powerhouse, not by a long shot, but she had more energy than your average initiate. And she was proud of that seeing as she'd been gifted with downright negligible amount of magic, almost not worth pursuing, and had worked incredibly hard to improve it to the level where she stood above the majority of her peers. So, whilst channeling raw power into the stone for a full three minutes wasn't _easy, _it wasn't exactly taxing either.

Ozpin gingerly took the stone from her, placing it back within the box with the utmost care. Blake returned her attention to the line, now staring at the few people after her that had yet to return their stones. One in particular caught her attention. She'd noticed how everyone's stones had glowed, probably due to the magical energy they were being pumped full of, but his practically _shined._

The tallish blonde boy with blue eyes was staring intently at his very bright stone. Blake narrowed her eyes, before focusing on him. Suddenly, her mouth felt very dry. She hadn't sensed it earlier, probably due to the rate at which the stone was absorbing his power, but the amount of magic he was pouring into it was ludicrous. In the ten seconds she'd observed him he'd pushed as much magic into his bright-white rock as she'd managed in three minutes.

She was sweating very lightly from the exertion. If she was to guess she would be able to put up with half an hour or so of channeling her mana like she had been. This boy had done three minutes of her level of output in ten seconds. That means in the three minutes required, he'd summoned eighteen times the amount of power she'd done. That was nearly twice her _total reserves_. And he didn't look even the _slightest_ bit bothered, not even the smallest sheen of sweat was visible on his brow.

It was rather frightening, to be honest. To have that much magic... well, she couldn't imagine it. She doubted she'd ever come close. If he wasn't so goofy looking she'd say some people have all the luck.

Ozpin approached him, taking his stone with an amused expression. He looked up at the blonde boy, who was shifting around uneasily at all the stares he was getting, no doubt the other initiates noticing his ridiculous level of magical power. Ozpin merely shook his head slightly as he walked to stand in front of the line once more.

"Thank you all. Now that we have completed the first stage, I will be leaving for a few moments." Ozpin said. "Feel free to sit down, you shall wait until I return." With that, he stood true to his word, striding through a door at the opposite end of the chamber without further ado.

Blake sighed, repressing her fluttering nerves. As much as she wished otherwise she could not deny that the entire experience was unnerving on some level. Yes, she had gotten into Beacon on her own merits, on a scholarship no less. But none of that would matter if she did not pass initiation. Her future hinged on this mornings upcoming event, and it had been weighing heavily upon her for some time now.

And if she was being completely honest with herself - which she'd long ago started committing herself to - she was also anxious about the consideration ceremony. She didn't doubt that a human - if they weren't a bigot - or a faunus could make for an excellent teammate and companion, but there was a surety that came with being Bonded, a level of understanding and trust that was said to be nigh on unbreakable. And frankly, the mystique of being partnered with a a primal, someone so completely out of her comprehension and worldview appealed to her.

She glanced once again at the Bonded initiates. The girl had a beaming grin on her face, and her hands were occupied with her feline partner's tail, batting it to and fro. The big cat was swaying it for the girl, with an air of indulgence... and a hint of exasperation. Blake stifled a snort and a chuckle at the sight.

Turning forward, she decide to sit down and recuperate. She wasn't sure of the cause, but she had noticed over the years that her magical reserves filled _much_ faster than anyone else she knew. She'd noticed that regardless of the reserve of power a person held, most people recovered at the same rate, near empty magic would take about a day to regenerate. The smallest depleted well would take just as much time to replenish to the maximum as the largest, despite the differing levels of power.

But not hers. It had been more noticeable as her reserves grew to a moderate size, when she realised that despite having expended all her energies a mere five hours earlier, she was completely full up. And that had been without food, or rest, both of which would have significantly increased the rate of regeneration. Magic behaved oddly like a person's physical energies, and in some ways even resembled a muscle. It would grow in power the more it was used, and certain exercises were used to increase ones control of it, comparable to the equivalent of stretching. Food and rest also helped in the refilling process.

There were other ways to restore ones magical energy of course. Blake had even seen some, despite the rarity of such techniques. Truly adept mages could often draw energy from the aspect of magic they were most attuned to. A water elementalist could draw energies from the rain, for example. Personally, the man she'd met had specialised in healing, and had drawn power from Blake _reading_ of all things. Of course, the book had been recommended by him, a story of how a female faunus had overcome her insecurities about her heritage, something that had settled a growing tension in Blake that had been with her since she was a child. The simple act of assuaging a young woman's worries had given him the strength to continue tending to the sick and wounded, and this more than anything had taught Blake that magic permeated _everything_ on Remnant.

Magic was strange, and despite what the researchers would have you believe, incomprehensible. It could be utterly esoteric, such as the technique the man had used with her and the book, or very straightforward, like a runic mage drawing the symbol for light and producing a light. So she'd given up on pigeonholing her abilities, and instead picked up every useful trick and skill she could get her hands on. One of her favourites was a technique that was purportedly only useful for those who intended to become adept flame wielders - something she didn't exactly have a penchant for. A meditation exercise where you 'burned' any stray thoughts, tossing them into the imagined fire in her mind.

It not only increased her focus in battle, helped her keep calm in real life, and increased her memory, it also served to increase her magical regeneration. Blake had been astounded to discover that she could completely recover her magical power in just under an hour, if she meditated properly. She'd never heard of such a quick recovery time, and kept it under wraps lest it be used against her in the future.

To think, she'd already started losing faith in the White Fang so young...

With a sigh, Blake stood and stretched. Her meditation... well, it hadn't been meditation so much as letting her thoughts trail off, but it'd served its purpose. She hadn't expended all that much energy, and what she had was now restored. Just in time too, considering that Ozpin had just re-entered the room.

The room was utterly silent as he walked toward the assembled hopefuls once more, cane tapping an even tempo on the solid stone floors. He stood, face inscrutable as he looked over the collected students.

"Ms. Schnee, please step forward." Blake heard him say loudly, followed by a muffled gasp, and a sharp intake of breath. She turned towards the source of the sound, deeply curious. She knew of the Schnee Dust Company - what faunus did not? They were notorious for their shady business practices, often toeing the line of slavery when it came to the rights of their faunus workers. They _had_ improved - she grudgingly admitted - in the last fifteen years or so, but it was still a long way from perfect, or even from acceptable standards. The Schnee walked forward, clad in white combat outfit, with typical snowy Schnee hair done in a side ponytail held in place by a tiara (_typical Schnee_). Her was face almost blank but Blake could see the smile the girl was trying to push down, Blake picked up on the pure joy radiating from the girl's frame. To see a Schnee practically _bounce_ forward, literally twitching with glee, was something of a spectacle. They were renowned for their icy demeanour, and she was doing a valiant job of retaining her composure, but also failing utterly... Blake had to admit, it was somewhat endearing.

"Mr. Arc, please step forward." Ozpin said, taking an idle sip of his beverage, resting his other hand on his cane. The dorky magical powerhouse she had observed walked forward hesitantly, seemingly stuck between felicity and dread. He fidgeted nervously under the scrutinising stare of the Headmaster, and the other occupants in the room. The Schnee remained perfectly still, her excitement and impatience betrayed only by the subtle wringing of the hands clasped in front of her. Of course, the smile she was wearing - no doubt unintentionally - sort of gave away her mood too.

"Ms. Belladonna, please step forward." He said, and Blake almost felt her heart stop. Expelling a deep breath, she walked forward evenly, ignoring the fluttering sensation in her stomach. She stood tall, refusing to bow under the almost accusatory stares of those still standing within the line, the eyes that demanded _'Why her, and not me? Why you, and not I?'. _She exchanged a clipped nod of greeting with the Schnee, returned with a graceful, almost imperceptible inclining the of the smaller girl's head. When she did the same for the Arc boy, he returned a startled, awkward, birdlike motion from an obviously flustered young man.

"Mr. Winchester, please step forward." Ozpin said once again. This time a tall, burly man stepped forward. He had short reddish brown hair, blue eyes, and was wearing a full suit of armour. He also had an _insufferably_ smug smirk on his face, as if he were taunting all those weren't picked. Blake pursed her lips at his display of arrogance and cruelty.

She had a feeling they wouldn't exactly be bosom buddies any time soon.

"Congratulations, you four are this year's considered." Ozpin confirmed. As soon as the words left his mouth, a ripple of despair could be seen going down those left behind. Obviously a great many of them had wanted the opportunity to gain a magical partner. More than a few scowled at the Blake and the other considered. The Schnee's gleeful spark became more subdued, but she didn't even flinch at the harsh looks some of her peers were directing at her. Winchester outright _laughed_ at the negative attention, and Blake couldn't find it in herself to stop him as he was suddenly drawing almost _all_ thedirty looks. Arc, on the other hand, looked like he was about to faint. Blake swore she even heard him whimper. It was sort of pathetic, honestly.

"Follow me." Ozpin said, pointing at the four considered. "The rest of you, Ms. Goodwitch will be along momentarily and then you will attempt initiation. Good day, and good luck."

Blake followed after the Headmaster, who was making pace across the floor in quick strides. She couldn't quite repress her shiver of excitement as she followed him through the simple wooden doors. She realised the Schnee was looking at her intently, and Blake chastised herself for not even noticing someone had been walking right next to her, studying her to their hearts content. Her old instructor would have her hide for lacking 'Constant vigilance' as he was wont to exclaim. Blake gave the Schnee a devil may care grin, allowing her inner excitement to show. The Schnee looked startled for a second, but then an answering smirk appeared on the shorter girls elegant features, almost challenging, as if to showcase that her enthusiasm was even greater than Blake's.

It seems that Blake was not the only one whose wish had come true.

* * *

Weiss' heart was thundering in her ribcage when she toward her examination room. The tall raven haired girl, Belladonna, had just walked into her own just opposite of Weiss across the hall. She put the girl with golden eyes out of her mind for now, despite holding a small hope that she would pass just as Weiss wished to. The tall thug, Winchester, had been leering at them both the entire time, and Weiss had no desire to see him join her as one of this year's Bonded. The other boy was a complete pansy, and no doubt would fail miserably, so she barely paid a him a moments thought. At the very least if Belladonna succeeded she would find herself in what looked to be intelligent company.

Weiss took a fortifying breath, and slammed the exam room door open. She walked inside, eyes flickering from side to side, taking in every detail, every possible threat. The room was vast, and looked like an old cathedral. Stained glass windows historic battles against the Grimm lined the walls, looking both ancient and impeccably well kept. A pile of rubble lay strewn across the floor at the end of the room, sitting at the foot of stairs leading to a small dais. The dais was of simple stone, but accentuated by the moonlight shining through the smashed looking hole in the rough, ostensibly the source of the rubble.

Oh, and the twenty foot suit of animated armour standing in the middle of the roo- _arena,_ wielding a claymore at least five times the size of Weiss, too.

_Peachy._

Seeing that nothing save the dais held any interest to her, Weiss decided that _no_, there wasn't a secondary objective. She would have to fight the gigantic suit of armour. Not that it gave her much of a choice, as it lurched forward, swinging the massive sword overhead and smashing it into the floor where Weiss had previously been. Her dodge roll had carried her around to the flank of the armour, and she near instantly capitalised on her tactical advantage.

Boosting herself forward using a small propulsion rune, she ended up at the feet of the armour before it had even begun turning around. She unleashed a flurry of pirouetting slices along the armoured legs. She cursed inwardly when no visible damage was done. She had hoped that her blade would have weakened the magic keeping the armour together. She flipped backwards as the armour swung round, pulling the sword across the floor in a low, turning blow. Weiss flinched when she felt a chip of heated rock fling up from the gouge in the floor and clip her shin.

Weiss made the decision to test the effectiveness of brute force tactics next. For all she knew, the armour had a terrible sense of balance and a nice concussive blast would flatten it. She knew if she could ground it, leaving it unable to pursue her, the battle was won. She would pick it apart with a few choice spells, given the time to prepare. With a flick of her hand she called up a pure white, snowflake styled runic matrix to her right. With a snarl, she fisted her hand and gave it a rather unladylike punch.

An incorporeal looking fist, seemingly made of wisps of ghostly white energy surged forth, at least the size of a small car. With a thudding boom it collided with the armour, causing it to bend backward. Weiss cussed viciously when it plunged the sword into the stone floor to remain upright, telling her that brute force tactics would not work unless she managed to disarm the armour, leaving it with less utility (_also, she'd much prefer to face it sans sword, really_). She flicked her open hand in a series of sharp motions, sending piercing bolts of magical energy at the armour. The arrow like shafts of glowing light smashed into the armour, a few leaving infinitesimal gouges, or bouncing off the heavy plated metal completely. One arrow struck the floor, leaving a three metre long rend in the solid stone, a testament to the power belying the simple spell.

Weiss was panting lightly, having a _lot_ of her magic in the stone earlier. She had almost unparalleled reserves (_before she'd seen the absolutely monstrous magical reserves of that Arc boy, she'd had the most out of anyone her age she'd ever met) _but she'd used over half before the fight. She didn't know whether she was upset about that or not; for all she knew the only reason she'd been selected was because of the amount of power she'd shunted into the little black and red rock.

Weiss jumped straight up when the armour went for another low, looping hack. She felt the air rush beneath her as the massive sheet of metal slid in her previously occupied spot. Suddenly, the armour grabbed the sword with both hands, swinging it back at Weiss with hitherto unseen speed. She quickly channeled her magic through some of the white Dust contained within her sword's, Myrtenaster, rotational guard. White Dust has only two properties, it has cleansing effects and is _highly_ malleable when exposed to magic. This allowed a mage to utilise their magic in a range of unique ways, from lining a sword's edge to impossible sharpness to creating wings in order to fly. It was expensive, but immensely useful and easy to use. Most Dust served in a similar way, beyond being used as the primary energy source and munitions on Remnant.

She conjured a thick, bracing shield, holding her rapier in front of her with both hands. The force of the swing sent Weiss flying across the room, jarring her arms and causing her teeth to chatter from the impact. Luckily, she is sent lengthwise across the room and not into any of the walls. She landed in a backwards flip, falling to a knee to regain equilibrium.

She snapped her head up when she hears a whistling sound, and rolled to the side just in time to avoid being turned to paste underneath a leaping blow form the amour. Weiss came out of the roll hoisting her blade as it was poised to pierce the earth. Using some freeze Dust she summoned a veritable tidal wave of ice, surging forth and rooting the armour to the floor. Taking a running leap she collided with the chest of the armour, rapier first. The enchanted mechanical blade sunk into the left breast of the animated magical construct, and she felt the metal knight shudder as her sword damaged the magic holding it together.

Then Weiss' world exploded in pain as she was sent barreling across the floor, reeling from a heavy gauntleted punch. Even with the passive magical shielding that was common practice for mages she was hurt. Her left cheek was at the very least fractured, probably broken if the piercing agony was any indication. It also burned abominably, and she felt the pitter patter of blood running down from her brow, a rather nasty gash if she was to guess. At the very least she'd managed to keep ahold of her weapon.

The armour stood still, almost assessing. Weiss took the opportunity granted. She prepared a measure of burn Dust in her blade, it would explode outward at the next strike. Then she set to beginning a powerful spell, a mix of binding, conjuring, animation and transmutative magics. The transmutative magics allowed her to stretch the substance she was using, stone, and make it hardier so that it would not shatter. The animation allowed the newly flexible, strong stone to move. The conjuration gave the stone essence, giving it a natural form to take that would be appropriate thus freeing up her mind as she did not have to explicitly picture the results she wanted, the conjuration would adhere the form to her intentions. The binding spell was to hamper magical power, and since the armour was a magical construct, it would greatly weaken it.

The armour seemed to have caught on to her plan, however. It charged her, blade poised to skewer her in a lancing gambit. She stood tall, throwing her weight into an upward thrust of her rapier, striking the point of the armour's sword. The burn dust released explosively - true to it's name - and blew the sword of the armour upwards, heavily unbalancing the metal knight. Immediately Weiss unleashed her woven spell in a burst of magic that left her feeling drained.

Thick roots of enchanted stone burst forth the floor in gouts of dust and debris. The stone crawled, twining up the body of the construct. The stone looked almost alive, acting much like the vine's it resembled, albeit made of rock. The armour struggled fruitlessly against the binding roots, weakening as the binding effects hampered it's magic. It grew weaker as the vines constricted it, wrapping around all it's limbs and around it's chest. Eventually, it did nothing but hang haplessly as the roots lifted it into the air, completely encompassing it.

Weiss took that time to prepare a freeze Dust spell, flicking her mechanical rapier and allowing the icy power to suffuse her beloved blade. She drew on the power of the Nature's Wrath rather than attempt to weave a spell using her depleted magic reservoir. It was possible for any mage to do so if they wished, to use the power of Dust to use magic at little to no cost to the mage - save the material price of the Dust itself. It was, however, rather rare to do so in a combat situation except for the simplest spells. Basic blasts of elemental nature, or shields, such easy works could be called forth near instantly and at little risk to a skilled mage as long they kept a tight lid on their power. They were also moderately powerful, and so the use of Dust to mages was rather widespread.

Wielding complicated magic with Dust was a different matter entirely. Once released it seemed that the elemental power was loathe to return to a constrained form. The more complicated the magic, the more volatile the Dust became. Either much time was needed so that the mage could create enough magical constrictions that would allow the Dust's power to be channeled safely, or they could be reckless and simply hope for the best, which was likely to create havoc and destruction. There was a reason people called Dust 'Nature's Wrath'.

But Weiss had the time, and so set to moulding one of her original spells. A minute of absolute stillness later, a large runic circle in the likeness of a snowflake appeared in front of Weiss. She wasted no time in slashing diagonally down the rune, causing the conjured circle to glow. Immediately afterwards, a gigantic broadsword of ice materialised above of the Schnee heiress. The blade followed the exact same trajectory as Weiss' slash, heading straight for the bound metal knight. The ice gleamed unnaturally, looking less like frost and more akin to an immense gem, too perfect to be seen in the natural world.

This was a spell she had created for this exact situation, the destruction of a magical construct. The spell was made of three parts; elementalism, runic, and arcane magics. The elementalism provided a form and substance, in this case ice. The runic circle was mostly used to make sure the Dust didn't explode in her face, but also served to allow her to choose the angle and speed of attack. Finally, the arcane magic woven into the icy blade would rebuff any magic it came across. The blade would unravel the weaves that held any spellwork that it came into contact with, causing the spell to dissipate like so much ash on the wind. The ability to dispel nearly any magic it came into contact with was extremely potent.

Also, the sword was Dust-damned sharp.

This was proven a few moments later when the gigantic blade _cleaved_ through the magical metal. It rent the magical construct in two, from shoulder to hip, completely bifurcating the thick metal breastplate. The magic holding and animating the metal man came undone, and the pieces of armour fell to the floor in heaps, separating as they were no lounger bound together. The construct was nothing more than a pile of scraps now. The residual magic rose from the piles of metal in ghostly grey wisps, like steam from a mug of hot tea. The vines stopped moving, now nothing more than an intricate series of highly detailed stone vines. It looked rather nice, actually.

Weiss sighed, then winced in pain. She would have a inevitable collection of no doubt _glorious_ bruises forming tomorrow. She felt like she'd been thrown through a few nice brick walls.

Not that any of this mattered to her. Pain was temporary, especially with magical healers. The satisfaction she felt from succeeding in such a battle as she just committed was far less transitory. That golem had been _impressive. _Whomever constructed it had either taken a lot of time, a mage of vast patience and diligence, or was simply vastly skilled and powerful. None the less, she had defeated it. And she had done so soundly.

Rather impressive for a rookie mage-warrior, in her own opinion.

She walked toward an opening door in the side of the arena, something that must have been concealed as she had not noticed it earlier. She held her head high, despite the pain it cost her to do so. She was proud of her achievement. She was nervous, of course, but nothing could take her victory away from her.

Her performance had been more than adequate, even for a Schnee.

* * *

Blake hissed as her arm protested sharply against the slightest movement. Not that she could blame anyone but herself of course, for both the break and her now moving into a more comfortable position. The doctor that had seen to her not long ago was a talented healer, but unless he spent a large chunk of his magic her arm would remain broken. She had also left Blake propped in a less than ideal position. Blake assumed the healers were restraining themselves in the event of a critical case.

A flash of white in Blake's peripheral vision made her look up. The Schnee girl walked out from one of the many doors in the well lit hallway. It looked nothing more than the passageway of a school, and it probably was, except for the various healers and nurses sitting in wait on the benches that lined the walls. And Blake couldn't discount that she there exactly four emergency beds set up as well, in case one of the considered was severely injured or needed a place to lie down.

Blake snickered at the shocked look on the young woman's face as the healers _swarmed_ towards her. She didn't seem heavily injured, at least nothing that stood out to Blake. It seemed as if the doctors and nurses agreed, if the mere five minutes of treatment she endured proved anything. When icy blue eyes met Blake's own amber gaze, she nodded in greeting. The heiress reciprocated and Blake thought that she saw the briefest flash of a grin on that stoic face. That was encouraging... in fact, Blake decided to herald her over to satisfy her curiosity. The Schnee raised a brow, by made her way over to where Blake was sitting.

"Hello." The white haired girl said. Blake took a moment to look her over. There was a patch on her left eye, but the girl seemed too calm for there to be any sort of lasting damage, so Blake doubted that it was serious. Her cheek was sickening shade of purple, it had probably been badly broken before the healers got to it. Other than the stiffness of her gait - which could attributed to her Schnee heritage - the girl seemed otherwise unharmed.

"Hello." Blake greeted, lifting a her non-broken hand to shake. The girl reached out and returned the shake daintily. Blake was surprised by her light voice, it was cultured and refined, but slightly girlish. And that handshake hadn't exactly been firm. Then again, the Schnee _was_ rather petite. Nonetheless, Blake sensed the girl had a rather forceful personality, if the intensity of her ice blue eyes was any indication. "Blake Belladonna."

"Weiss Schnee." She introduced herself. "You passed?"

Blake hummed before shrugging. So this was this Schnee heiress? "I beat it, yes, but I don't know if I passed."

"I see." The girl murmured thoughtfully. "You are right, one shouldn't assume that simple victory will mean we passed."

"It seems like you fought as well." Blake commented, pointing at the blood colouring the white of the girl's collar.

"Yes. A large animated metal golem wielding a claymore." Weiss confirmed with a nod.

"Ah, same as me then." Blake said with a small smile. "How did you beat it?"

At this Weiss smirked, and Blake caught the definite pride in her voice. "I bound it using magic restricting stone vines, and then cut it in two with a dispelling ice blade." She said, and Blake blinked. That was impressive sounding magic. It seemed as if the Schnee was rather gifted. "Yourself?"

"I shot it in the face." Blake said blithely. At Weiss' incredulous look she chuckled lightly. "I used an illusion to distract it, climbed up the blade and then the arm. Then I shot it between the gaps in it's helmet, repeatedly." Blake lifted Gambol Shroud indicatively.

"An interesting weapon." Weiss commented, looking at Gambol intently. "Mecha-shift, correct?"

"Yes." Blake confirmed. "Your rapier seems to have a small bit of that as well."

"A simple cycling mechanism." Weiss told her, unsheathing her blade and spinning the multicoloured chambers. "Myrtenaster is a Multi-Action Dust Rapier."

That _was_ a fairly simple weapon, but lauded as well. Blake knew that it was a favourite among those who relied heavily on magic in combat, despite the rarity of such a blade. It certainly fit with the image of a powerful mage that she suspected Weiss to be. "Gambol Shroud is a Variant Ballistic Chain Scythe." Blake told the girl.

"An unusual choice." Weiss commented. Blake gave her a enigmatic smile.

"I'm an unusual mage."

"How did you break your arm?" Weiss asked, changing the course of the conversation quickly.

Blake winced slightly at the memory. "It got a hold of the ribbon I use and yanked. It's magically reinforced, so much so that it tightened so quickly it broke my arm." She told the white haired mage. "What happened to you?" Blake said, pointing at the eye patch and damaged cheek.

"An impressive right hook." Weiss said dryly.

Blake snorted, but was still pretty surprised, and a little impressed. "Honestly, you look pretty good for someone who took a punch from a multi-ton metal warrior."

The girl blushed lightly, which was... well Blake was unsure, but it obviously her words had _some_ effect. "Let's see about that tomorrow. I feel like a walking bruise in the making."

Suddenly a door opened, and a dusty Arc stumbled out. He was instantly beset by a wave of healers, much like Weiss had been. Blake was surprised that the boy had managed, truthfully. And from the expression on Weiss' face, it seemed that she too hadn't expected him to join them. Weiss sat down next to Blake, not exactly in close proximity, but closer than Blake had thought Weiss would've. The rested in comfortable in silence, making light conversation occasionally, but both happy to rest after the ordeal of the consideration ceremony.

After a good fifteen minutes, the healers moved away from the Arc. The boy was _filthy_. He was covered from head to toe in dust, with smears of blood on his face. But as he walked over, he didn't seem particularly pained, just rather tired.

"Uh, hey." He greeted unsurely, lifting a hand with a lopsided smile.

"Hello." Weiss said primly.

"Hey." Blake said plainly, looking him up and down. She couldn't see any visible injuries, but then again they could be simply covered under all the layer of earth covering his form.

"Jaune Arc." He introduced himself.

"Blake Belladonna."

"Weiss Schnee."

"So, did you two fight a giant knight as well? Or was Ozpin picking on me?" He said with lightly joking tone.

"Giant knight." Blake confirmed. "How did you win?"

"I tricked it into knocking down some supports, and the roof collapsed on it." He said, before sneezing lightly and gesturing to his body. "And me too, at least a little bit.

"Clever." Blake commended. Using one's environment was something that her tutor had drummed into her skull _quite_ thoroughly.

"Eheh, thanks." He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "What did you do, Snow Angel?" He asked, affecting a smooth drawl as he looked at Weiss. Blake stifled a snort at the indignant expression on the heiress' face.

It seemed someone wasn't a fan of her new nickname.

"My name is _Weiss_." She bit out harshly. "And I doubt I have the time, the patience or the inclination to explain it to an immense dullard such as yourself."

"Oh-_kay_." Jaune said, lifting his hands in supplication and stepping backwards in retreat. "I'll just be over there, and _not_ here. Later, Blake, Weiss." He quickly walked away.

Weiss let loose an aggrieved noise, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "Snow Angel? _Really?_ What in the world gave him the idea that I would appreciate being addressed by such a ridiculous epithet?"

"Men are stupid." Blake said bluntly.

Weiss looked up to her slowly, and cracked a small grin. "True_._" She conceded.

"I do hope that not all of us are labeled as such." A definitely masculine voice interrupted them. Both looked around, startled. Ozpin stands not far from them, sipping on some of his beverage.

"Just most, sir." Blake said, recovering from her shock quickly. It wasn't every day she met someone able to sneak up on her, but if anyone could, the Arch-mage of Beacon would.

"Ah, so there is hope for us yet." He said with a small smile, before turning serious. "Now, if the two of you would join me, please."

"Of course, Headmaster Ozpin." Weiss said politely, standing gracefully. She turned round and immediately set to helping Blake stand. Blake gratefully accepted the offer, pleased at the friendly gesture from the white haired girl.

And so they followed.

* * *

Weiss looked around the open grounds Ozpin had lead them to. They were outside of Beacon proper, in a field of grass that seemed to be used for recreational sports. The sun was dying, dipping below the horizon as twilight descended upon the world. Their enigmatic Headmaster had lead them here, and told them to wait for the final part of the consideration ceremony.

That had been roughly an hour ago, and Weiss was losing her patience.

"What in the world could be taking so long?" The heiress snapped.

"I don't know." Blake said honestly, lying down on the soft grass. She, unlike the irate woman next to her, was content to soak in the last rays of the sun and have a quick nap. She suspected that her faunus side had more than a little do with it.

"Aren't you worried?" Weiss asked.

"Yes."

"You don't _look_ worried."

"That is because I trust Ozpin, I know I can't do anything but wait."

"Maybe this another test?" Weiss said unsurely.

"Weiss," Blake tried to interrupt, but was cut off by Weiss' frantic spiel. Blake quickly tuned out the girls rather creative cursing and incensed anxiety. A tickle on the edge of her sense made her sit up, not that Weiss paid much attention.

"Weiss," Blake said again, but once was more steamrolled by Weiss.

"Is this a puzzle, perhaps some sort of test in tracking?"

Blake watched as the form that had caused her senses to flare up flew towards them, a speck in the distance. Blake was unsure how she had felt whatever it was, but she also doubted it was alone.

"_Weiss," _Blake said more strongly, but she was still ignored by the panicky heiress.

"Is there something hidden in the grass? Did Ozpin leave a clue of sort?"

"_Weiss!_ Shut. Up." Blake hissed, getting the girls attention. Weiss looked briefly shocked, but then Blake saw a fiery temper light in her eyes. With little patience Blake clapped a hand over the other girls mouth. "Look!" Blake said, removing her hand and pointing into the distance. Weiss narrowed her eyes, before swinging her gaze over to where Blake was pointing. She immediately paled.

"Oh Dust." Weiss breathed.

Blake and Weiss scrambled to their feet as one of the forms landed not twenty metres away from them. It roared triumphantly as it landed, flaring it's wings broadly to slow it's movement completely. It was _enormous; _at the very least it was the size of a Bullhead, aerial transports common in Vale. It had bright golden scales, iridescent in the glowing orange sunlight. Massive talons coupled with heavy bone plates on it's paws sat on equally impressive legs, coupled with a robust body and long, sinuous barbed tail. A cascade of yellow feathers covered the lengthy, flexible neck. A maw of dagger-like teeth sat in a grand, angular head topped with small triangular, vaguely dog-like ears. It had expressive lilac eyes, eyes that were scanning both Blake and Weiss as they stared at it in turn.

Not long after the second form landed. Whereas the other looked crushingly powerful and majestic, it was much smaller, but it seemed lithe and oh so very _dangerous_. It's scales were a pitch black, with some trimmed in a intense crimson. It wasn't as large as it's counterpart, but it definitely wasn't small. It looked sleek, deadly, like a viper waiting in the grass. It's talons looked viciously sharp, like so many gleaming scythes. Even it's wings looked deadly, blood red and tipped with black bladed edges. The tail's barbs were far more uniform in nature than the larger primal, and also seemed much thinner, much sharper. It had black feathers on its neck, with some red interspersed in-between, far less in volume than it's golden counterpart. It's face was sharp, with startling bright silver eyes peering at the human and faunus in disguise. It too had the sharp triangular ears. Everything about it screamed speed and predatory threat.

Dragons.

_Oh god, Dragons._

The most naturally dangerous species on Remnant, Grimm very much included. They were the alpha predators of their world. Legendary for their magic, for their might. They were equally revered and feared. Revered, because without them there was little doubt the Grimm would have wiped out the humans and faunus an age ago. Feared, because they hadn't been afraid to hunt the other sentient species in the past.

Blake and Weiss, for now simple mages in training, were standing in front of _two_ of these beings. Blake felt like something died in her throat when the massive golden Dragon swung it's gaze toward her. It moved toward Blake, each step of its even gait causing a thudding vibration to be sent through the earth. Blake felt something brush up on her mind, and instantly allowed it access. She wasn't strong enough to keep out a determined Dragon, seeing as they spoke almost solely using the mind arts. It was in their nature to be strong with telepathy. It was, after all, how they communicated.

Dragon's were perfectly capable of speaking the common tongue, as their natural communication wasn't suited to complex conversation. Dragon 'language' for a lack of a better term, was a series of impressions, emotions and images sent to give a message. And that is exactly what happened.

Blake saw flashes of her fight, viewing it from a high position. She briefly wondered how the Dragon had been able to watch, but then remembered that Dragon sight was far superior to even the above average vision of the faunus, it must have watched from quite the distance.

Blake got the impression that the Dragon thought she was clever for not engaging a more powerful target head on, sneaky for moving undetected whilst she had planned her attack strategy, tough for fighting even with a broken arm, and tricky for using illusions to give her the opening she needed to finish the fight.

The last was vaguely accusatory in nature, as if it didn't completely approve of such duplicitous tactics.

'_Not everyone is the size of a house, has claws, and the ability to breathe fire.' _Blake shot back, directing her thoughts at the Dragon, annoyed.

The Dragon straightened for a moment, blinking slowly.

'_Feisty! I like that.'_ It said in Blake's mind. The voice was definitely female, but Blake knew that it was a female as soon as she saw the feathers and the lack of horns. What did take her by surprise was the youth to it, and the teasing, cheery quality. She sounded like a young, confident woman.

Blake chuckled. '_I like your feathers.' _She said.

The Dragon's eyes went wide, before it puffed out it's chest. A draconic grin stretched across it's face, and Blake got the impressions of **_pridethankyoupride_**. It took Blake a few seconds to realise it was _preening_.

'_Oh I think we are going to get along juuussst fine.' _She said to Blake, sounding immensely pleased.

Blake rolled her eyes at the blatant show of ego, but smiled as well. '_My name is Blake.'_

'_Mine is Yang, partner_.'

* * *

Meanwhile Weiss was staring down her own Dragon, but not nearly as calmly as Blake. Despite having gotten the attention of the smaller of the two, Weiss was not reassured.

The larger dragon was _far_ less intimidating.

It glided toward her, each step startlingly silent. It was moving very quickly, deceptively swift and snakelike. Weiss felt her pulse pick up as it approached, looking dark and dreadful. She fought the urge to retreat, to simply flee in the other direction from the predator in front of her.

Eventually it was right next to her, and Weiss could feel the cold sweat dripping down her forehead. She was pretty sure that even if she _did_ want to flee, her body wouldn't follow her orders anymore. The Dragon's face lowered to face Weiss, warm breath puffing over Weiss. She gulped, staring at the deadly looking teeth. She looked up, dread pooling her stomach, and stared into a pair of large, slitted silver eyes...

Then it _licked_ her.

Right in the face.

Weiss was stunned into unfeeling silence, drool dripping down her face and her fringe stuck in the air, unable to even comprehend that said Dragon had just _breezed_ past her mental shields.

'_My name's Ruby and we're going to be the best Bonded ever~!' _She exclaimed cheerfully into Weiss' mind. Her voice was young girl's, mid teens at most if Weiss was to guess. It was incredibly chirpy. She was getting heavy sensations of **_pridejoypridefriendhappinessjoyteamfriendteam_**_. _Coupled with gleeful silver eyes, and a massive wagging tail.

This wasn't a Dragon, it was the biggest puppy on Remnant.

Weiss could feel her headache coming back with a vengeance already.

* * *

_**FAVOURITE~REVIEW~FOLLOW!**_

**Heeelllloo! I was reading Eragon the other day - again - and I thought 'wow, this whole dragon soul partnership thing could be really interesting to write'. And then I thought, 'hey, I really like RWBY, and I really like Dragons...'**

**And here we are.**

**I _love_ the idea of Ruby being a dragon, and Weiss being bonded to her. I think it's both amazingly cute and super funny. And we all know Yang would make a badass dragon. I also wanted to write a world of RWBY based more along the lines of high-fantasy, with a bigger emphasis on creatures and magic.**

**I think this could be a really fun series, and I only hope that you guys will enjoy it. I think that after Remnant's Reclaimer, this is the fic I am most likely to pursue.**

**About pairings... I really don't know. I highly doubt that I will have either Yang x Blake, or Ruby x Weiss. No one wants to fuck a dragon. (Well, maybe they do, but I'm not writing about that shit.) So sorry, not interspecies lesbian sex. (Sorry not sorry)**

**Cheers!**


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